Fools

The brain-trust of the world has always conceived.
The intellectual excrement that you breathe.
I'm your god, you are my fool.
Now what's the problem, so hard to believe.
Take back what you've squandered.
The lie you live.
All crashing down, paying the price for the pain.
You are my fool.
A treasure of kings and queens, a few of your favorite things.
Obsess and you will see, the happiness that it brings.
I control, you are a fool.
Possession is nine-tenths, of your miserable existence.
But who's possessing who?
All crashing down, paying the price for the pain.
Into the ground, bury the hope with the sane.



Credits
Writer(s): John Beres
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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